Blinding
by some say fire some say ice
Summary: The girl scrambled up from her seat on the floor at the sight of the red star on Bucky's shoulder, and he tensed. She let out a low, almost animal-like growl. "You said I could trust you," she snarled. Steve raised his hands level with his head, blocking her view of Bucky. "You can," he said slowly, his voice soft. "I just wanna know if we can trust you." BuckyxOC
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Marvel, or any other property of Marvel. I only just made up Anna and a few others. **_

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_**Prologue**_

_**S.H.I.E.L.D**_

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"I need you to tell me what else you know about HYDRA," Fury peered at Barnes from over the manila folder, his good eye narrowing at the former Winter Soldier. Barnes didn't answer for a moment.

His jaw clenched. "They might have a few others. They've probably been moved by now. I don't know how many, I only saw one girl."

"Do you know who she is? What her name is?"

"No," Barnes scowled at the metal table in front of him. "I only saw her once or twice."

"What was she needed for," inquired Fury, standing and bracing his hands on the table. "Do you know?"

Sighing, Barnes brushed a strand of dark hair out of his face; the chain restrictions on his hands made him have to crane his neck down. "Not much, I assume. She might've been there for a backup plan or something. I never saw her leave and I didn't ask." He frowned. "At least I don't think I did."

"Do you at least know where she was being held?" Fury's voice was exasperated, and it made a small smirk form on Barnes' lips.

"Yeah," he said. After all he hadn't gotten wiped since the helicarrier incident, and they never wiped him before a mission. It took too much out of him. "I can show you."

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_So this chapter is basically just introducing what is to come in my story, and I promise you the chapters will be much longer than this. I'd just like to welcome you, and I sincerely hope you enjoy the story and I really hope I can update this whenever I can, but I feel like shit right now so not tonight. _


	2. Chapter 1

___**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Marvel, or any other property of Marvel. I only just made up Anna and a few others.**_

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_"I felt it in my fist, in my feet and the hollows of my eyelids. Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs."_

Florence + the Machine, _Blinding_

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** Chapter 1**

Anna woke with a jolt at the sound of gunfire outside her cell.

"Get down!" A man's voice ordered, followed by more gunshots. Anna swallowed down her fear and got up; trying not to put too much weight onto her left leg, which ached and throbbed painfully from last night's training session. Her tank top and shorts provided little protection from the cold draft that flew past the rusting bars at the entrance of her cell.

She crouched with a curse as the door to the cell room flew open. About 20 armed men filed into their rooms, coming to stand in a line against the wall. Scrambling back, Anna raised her arms above her head as their guns all turned to her.

"Shoot her," a man on the end commanded. Anna let out a strangled gasp that was quickly silenced as something pierced the skin on her neck and her vision turned hazy.

She was unconscious in seconds.

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When Anna regained consciousness, she didn't know where she was.

Letting out a groan, she sat up, bringing her hand up to run through her greasy hair. Her upper lip curled in disgust. God, she needed a shower.

Surveying her surroundings was difficult, considering the fact that her mind was still running a bit slow and not processing things the way it usually did. It could have also been the lack of food, or water. She didn't really know, there were so many fucking things going on with her body at the moment.

"Miss," a quiet voice said from the doorway, making her jump. Her body threw itself into awareness. Her eyes fell onto the window parallel from her, and she saw nothing but clouds. _Why am I on a plane? _The man in the doorway approached her cautiously.

Anna pushed herself up to stand, and only then did she notice the chain on her ankle which rooted itself into the side of the plane. "It's only a precaution," the man assured her, offering her a small smile. He ran his hand through his blond hair.

The conspicuous red, white and blue uniform was enough to tell her that this man wasn't working with HYDRA, telling her that he was probably American. Anna watched him carefully as he slowly walked forward and held out his hand.

"My name's Steve Rogers, ma'am."

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**HYDRA**

**9 years prior**

**Age 17**

"I can't."

The words were mumbled under her breath, forced out through gritted teeth and barely understandable, even to herself. Anna waited for the pain of the electricity coursing through her body and sending her to knees, but it never came. _He didn't hear me._

From beside her, Richardson scowled. "What are you waiting for?" he said impatiently, motioning to the large sheet of steel in front of her. "I have yet to see a dent. You don't have permission to stop."

Anna frowned. Nonetheless she tensed, bringing her fists up level with her face and squaring her shoulders. She ignored the throbbing pain in her knuckles, sending her fist flying forward into the steel.

_Crack._

Anna cried out, turning from the metal and clutching her now broken hand to her chest. She hadn't made a dent in the steel; she knew that by the scoff from Richardson. A white hot burning sensation shot through her body, letting up only after she let out a dull whimper.

"Again," snarled Richardson.

Frustration and anger made her body flood with heat as her fingers brushed over the metal cuff clasped around her wrist, and she swung around again, using the other fist against the steel.

"Finally," Richardson huffed, ignoring the muttered curses of pain from Anna and scribbling something down onto a paper. Anna shook off the pain in her left hand, looking up through her bronze bangs to look at the sheet. A weak laugh escaped her lips.

It was small, but it was there. The imprint of one knuckle stood out on the far side of the metal, the indentation being the only sign of progress they had seen in two days. They wouldn't have let her eat, sleep, or so much as sit down until something was done. That was what she was for. Progress.

"Take her back." Two armed guards seized Anna's arms, leading her roughly out into the hallway. She walked between them with her eyes down, and once they were sure she wouldn't do anything, only had a loose grip on her shoulders.

The guards guided her down the hallway and into her cell, which was only a few doors away from the training room, and opened the large, metal door with an eerie creak. They pushed her in, slamming the door shut behind her.

The cell wasn't the worst, she supposed. It was clean with proper heating and air conditioning and all that, but it wasn't exactly complex. It was fairly small and the walls were a plain gray, and behind them Anna knew that they had put more layers of different materials so she couldn't just punch through the wall, and the floor was made of cold tiles that made her shiver. There were no windows, and the bed was on the far right of the room. It was still made. Anna didn't remember a time when it wasn't made.

She barely ever slept, given the fact that being here for three years had given her severe nightmares, along with dreams filled with fear of consequences. Consequences that usually resulted in blood, bruises, and something broken and she usually passed out in the hall or in her cell afterwards. She knew they didn't care as long as she wasn't dead.

Anna sighed, bringing her right hand up to her face, trying to look at the damage that had been done. Her knuckles were split, day old blood covering them in a dry, patchy coat, and her fingers still throbbed painfully. She prodding at them gently, and with regret let out a hiss of pain.

"Son of a bitch…" she groaned. They wouldn't be sending a medical team down anytime soon. She wasn't their first priority and it was amazing and rare when they arrived in an hour.

But this time, it only took five minutes.

She heard the door open, and she was lying on her bed, making it difficult to see the door. Anna straightened up, giving extra care to her hands as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Richardson walked in with two men flanking his sides, and the bright white medical kit in one's hand gave her hope that her hand would be fixed, and she let herself relax slightly when she saw that she was right as the man with the kit knelt by the side of her bed, and took her hand.

Richardson remained standing in the middle of the room with an odd smile.

"You're being moved," he said. He looked happy, almost like he could jump for joy. "You're being moved to another base."

Anna, who could barely keep her eyes open, sighed. "What?" she said quietly with a shake of her head.

"You won't be here anymore," Richardson snapped. "I don't have to deal with you, brat."

"Hm." She nodded. "When?"

"When we're finished here."

The medic finished putting her hand in a brace, and Richardson grabbed the few belongings she had (a small, faded leather journal, a simple chain bracelet with a heart charm, and a few articles of clothing), stuffing them into a simple black backpack. Anna groaned under her breath.

"Where is it?" Anna murmured, following him out of her cell. Richardson glanced over at her with a small smirk, closing the door behind them.

"Nowhere good."


End file.
